


New Year's Wolf

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Series: A Wolf for All Seasons [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, New Year's Eve, Underage Drinking, Versatile Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3184874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is at Scott's New Year's party. Alone. He's not supposed to be, but his stupid werewolf of a boyfriend didn't show. It doesn't help that they haven't talked since they had their fight. To make it worse, he was looking forward to actually having someone to kiss at midnight when the New Year's ball dropped.</p><p>To make matters worse, everyone can tell that he isn't happy standing in the corner by himself. Scott takes the initiative to snap his best friend of his depression. He convinces Stiles that maybe it isn't too late for him and Derek to make up before the clock strikes midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of my other Sterek fic [Christmas Wolf](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2729744/chapters/6115889). You can totally read them separate though if you so choose. Enjoy

Stiles stood back from the crowd, tapping his foot against the bottom of the wall. He watched as all his friends laughed and carried on with their conversations as the New Year’s countdown continued as background noise.

“Stiles,” a female voice called his name, pulling his attention back to reality.

“Hey, Lydia,” Stiles offered a faint smile to her. He noticed her lipstick was a brighter shade red than normal, perhaps a new shade for the new year. A ‘2015’ crown graced her head, perfectly basking her red locks.

“You alright?” Lydia asked, arching her eyebrows in concern.

“I’m fine,” Stiles forced a perfect smile onto his face, waving his hand at her.

“You’re awfully secluded. I figured you would be hanging all over Derek. Where is he, anyways?” Lydia asked as she looked around, trying to spot the darkest corner Derek would most likely be lurking in.

“He’s running late,” Stiles lied, shifting uncomfortably as he thought about Derek. _He’s probably sitting in the loft, by himself, brooding. Stupid werewolf._

“Lydia!” One of the guys called her name, ushering his hand to call her over.

“Tell him he better hurry before the ball drops!” Lydia called back to Stiles as she walked over to the couch overflowing with people.

“Will do,” Stiles forced his grin until Lydia turned from him, letting it slip from his face the moment he was free from prying eyes.

Stiles wanted to call Derek countless times. But every single time he went to press send, he couldn’t force his fingers to work. He tried texting ‘I’m sorry’ even more times, but they were words destined to always be unsent. He sighed, letting his head bump lightly against the wall as he thought about what to do. _Not the greatest way to start off the New Year_ , he thought, jingling the keys to the loft in his hand.

With every turn of the key, the keychain began to weigh heavier, making Stiles frown as he tightened his fingers around it. The memory of their fight came back to him, haunting him as it repeated constantly in his mind.

“Scott wants us to be there earlier,” Stiles announced as he moved over into the kitchen. “I think he wants to make sure everything expensive is put away,” he laughed slightly, thinking of Melissa’s reaction to anything broken or out of place from a secretly thrown party.

“Yeah,” Derek replied as he dropped his jacket onto the couch.

“You okay?” Stiles asked, leaning against the counter as he observed Derek.

“Fine,” Derek slightly snapped back. He closed his eyes, groaning to himself before turning back to Stiles. “I’m fine.”

“Whenever you say you’re fine, that means you’re not,” Stiles replied, moving into the same space as Derek. “I thought we were past that.”

“I’m fine, Stiles,” Derek almost grumbled.

“Yeah, you sound fine,” Stiles mockingly replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Derek's voice held a very heavy warning.

“Well, I am the one person you know isn’t going to leave you alone,” Stiles replied, leaning on one leg as he jotted his hip out. “What happened to ‘I love you and promise I won’t hide things anymore?’” He questioned. He stared at Derek, watching the muscles in his back flex and relax in waves, as if Derek was fighting something that was ingrained in his body. “You're pissed,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Putting it lightly,” Derek grumbled under his breath, but it was loud enough for Stiles to hear him.

“You are an asshole,” Stiles replied, turning his back on Derek, snatching his laptop before dropping his body onto the couch. He ignored the faint growl that came from Derek, pretending that he was too invested in Facebook to care.

“Why do you always have to push?” Derek’s question broke the heavy silence.

“Why do you always have to pull away?” Stiles questioned in reply.

“You’re such a child,” Derek finally uttered, bitterness in his voice.

“I’m the child?” Stiles questioned, slamming his laptop shut before standing up, turning to face Derek.

Derek didn’t even bother with an audible response, merely arching his eyebrows as a challenge to Stiles to deny his statement.

“You know what? Fuck you,” Stiles replied, unable to stop himself. “Fuck you, and your—your stupid werewolf face,” he wanted to wince at how pathetic an insult it was, but he was struggling with getting his words out as the adrenaline continued to pump through him. “I’m sick of you never wanting to talk about what is wrong. Like I’m God damn Lydia and I’m just going to guess what is wrong.” _Don’t do it. Don’t say it. Walk away and stop_ , a small inner voice tried to warn him as he continued to ramble, knowing that he was going to cross the line and say something he wish he could take back.

“You shouldn’t have to guess what is wrong, Stiles,” Derek replied.

“I’m sorry! I guess I’m not a very good boyfriend then,” Stiles replied. He wasn’t sure why, but a part of him became angry when Derek didn’t correct him. Some part of him was telling him that Derek agreed with that statement, and _that_ hurt more than anything Derek could have ever said to him. “And looking at my competition, I thought I was doing pretty well.”

“What?” Derek finally turned to look at Stiles.

 _Don’t. You won’t be able to take it back. You’ll hurt him_. Stiles felt his arms shaking, knowing he was going to break down. _Like he’s hurt you_. “Given your track record, I thought I was boyfriend of the fucking year.” He regretted saying it the moment the words left his mouth. The victory he thought he would have was ripped away when he saw how Derek’s features changed. He expertly dug the knife in and immediately hated himself for it. He tried to open his mouth to begin an apology, but his voice remained lodged in his throat.

“Like I said,” Derek’s voice was lower as he spoke, clearly affected by Stiles’ jab. “A fucking child.”

 _Run. Fucking run_. Stiles feet began peddling him backwards, slightly stumbling over the coffee table as panic continued to rise. He quickly turned, grabbing his jacket and keys as he ran straight for the loft door. He didn’t bother closing it behind him, taking the steps two at a time as he tried to make it to his jeep in record time. He wasn’t sure if Derek even registered or cared about his exit from the loft, but he wanted to be as far away from him as possible, before he said anything else to screw up their relationship and make him hate him.

Stiles slammed the door to his jeep, quickly putting the keys into the ignition before he hesitated. Where was he going to go? Scott had Kira over, and he’d just be the third wheel. He could go home, but he didn’t want to face his dad. _I just wanted to go to Scott’s New Year’s party. I wanted to show off the fact that I have the best boyfriend ever. I wanted to finally have someone to kiss at midnight. I wanted to be happy!_

Stiles bumped his head against the steering wheel before groaning, knowing he had two options. Option one: go back into the loft and face Derek. Option two: go to his dad’s and hopefully avoid questions. It was a difficult choice, but Stiles finally made the cowardly decision to go with option two, and he hated himself for it. Every part of his brain yelled at him to get out of his jeep and go back up into the loft. He was supposed to be a good boyfriend; he was supposed to admit when he was wrong, and grovel for forgiveness. But Stiles never did do what he was supposed to.

Stiles was lucky that his father wasn’t home when he arrived. He went up to his bedroom, collapsing on the bed as he hugged one of his pillows. He wished Derek was here instead, feeling empty and hollow from being separated from him for even less than an hour. He snatched the book off his nightstand, turning onto his back as he started to read from where he left off over Thanksgiving break. To say he read the same sentence a hundred times would be an understatement.

“You alright?” Sheriff Stilinski asked. He was surprised when he saw Stiles’ light on in his room, investigating only to find his son sprawled across his bed, Derekless.

“Fine,” Stiles replied as he turned onto his side, pretending to still read the same page for the past hour, actually surprised he had been focusing on Derek so much that he hadn't heard his father ascend the stairs.

“Okay,” Sheriff Stilinski stated in skepticism. “I’m surprised to see you here. Wasn’t expecting it.” He paused as he looked around Stiles’ room, not seeing Derek anywhere. “Should I be expecting Derek?”

“No,” Stiles curtly replied. He did not like the deep sigh his father released before walking into his room. He didn’t like the fact that his dad had lingered, let alone actually walked into his room.

“Did you break up?” His dad’s voice was softer than normal, understanding that he was treading on the thin ice of a sensitive subject.

“No—Maybe—I don’t know,” Stiles huffed in defeat as he closed the book, tossing it to the side.

“What happened?” His dad asked, taking a seat on the edge of Stiles’ bed, just next to his feet.

“He’s—” Stiles stopped himself. “I’m just a kid, aren’t I?” The question was more to himself than his father.

“Yes,” his dad replied.

Stiles turned his body to look at his dad, giving him a look that told him he wasn’t helping.

“You _are_ a kid, Stiles,” his dad restated. “My kid.”

“Derek keeps treating me like I’m a child,” Stiles finally stated, knowing his dad was bound to find out anyways. “Like I haven’t been standing by his side—by everyone’s side—during all the insane stuff we’ve been through.”

“Did you ever think that maybe Derek feels too old?” His dad finally asked.

“What?” Stiles looked at his dad, never considering that maybe Derek was feeling his own inadequacies when it came to their relationship.

“Maybe it’s not that you’re too young. Maybe it’s that he feels like he’s too experienced,” Sheriff Stilinski raised his eyebrows in an attempt to make Stiles ponder the situation.

“I … No, I didn’t think of that,” Stiles admitted in defeat. “I just thought that after Christmas, we were past that,” he explained.

“I don’t think I want to know what happened on Christmas,” the Sheriff warned him.

Stiles eyes widened slightly, definitely not wanting to tell his dad about _all_ the things he and Derek did. “We talked. About the two of us being … _us_.”

“And?” The Sheriff seemed happy to know that Derek and Stiles at least _had_ conversations about their future.

“And we said we were committed,” Stiles stated. “Dad … ” he looked up at his father, uncertain if he should confess to him. “I told him I loved him.”

“That’s a lot to put on someone,” his dad started, as if he was about to explain to him how it was alright for a person to not immediately reciprocate a love confession.

“He said he loved me too,” Stiles finished.

“Then what is the problem?” His dad seemed genuinely confused, not understanding why Stiles was even here by himself.

“He wouldn’t tell me what was bothering him, so I kind of pestered him.” With every word Stiles spoke, the more the entire situation seemed to be utterly ridiculous and totally his fault.

“Stiles,” his dad started, shifting his body to better face him. “Couples fight. Your mom and I used to fight almost every other week. About stupid little things. Being with someone constantly means that you get an overdose of them after a while, and you just start to clash. Usually, the more you care, the more you clash.”

Stiles nodded, allowing his dad's words to sink in. Maybe his entire relationship with Derek was based on the fact that they clashed every now and again. Stiles knew he got on Derek’s nerves, but Derek had always loved that side of him. It was what made them _them_. Derek could pull Stiles back in when he started on a sarcastic rant, and Stiles could break Derek's cold exterior like it was nothing.

“He loves you, Stiles,” his dad finally stated. “If you ever doubt his words, you just have to see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.”

“Thanks, dad,” Stiles stated with a small smile.

“No problem, kiddo,” his dad ruffled his hair as he stood up. “Now, don't be an idiot tomorrow at Scott’s.”

“What?” Stiles feigned ignorance.

“Stiles, I'm not stupid. I know Scott is having a party,” his dad arched his eyebrows, a challenge for Stiles to deny his claim.

“I’ll spend the night there if it will make you feel better,” Stiles offered.

“That’s what I like to hear,” his dad said with a smile as he exited the room.

Stiles turned his body, staring at the ceiling as he thought about everything that happened. He didn’t know how to fix any of it, but he hoped he made the right decision to leave the loft. _Maybe we both needed to cool off without one another … I hope._ He turned onto his side, moving to hug his pillow tightly. _Doesn’t smell like Derek_ , he crinkled his nose when he realized that Derek’s smell was one of the only things now that could make him feel safe enough to fall asleep. He hoped exhaustion would overtake him and force him to sleep whether he had Derek’s smell to lull him or not.

“Stiles,” Scott’s voice calling his name ripped him from his memory as he nudged his shoulder.

“Huh?” Stiles looked at Scott.

“Dude, what’s happening with you?” Scott asked.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry,” Stiles stood up straight, accepting the beer from Scott.

“So,” Scott started, looking down at his feet. “Is Derek coming?”

“I don’t think so,” Stiles said with a somber sigh.

“Still haven’t made up?” Scott questioned.

“I just don’t know how to talk to him sometimes, you know? I mean, it was my fault for pushing, but—” Stiles looked at Scott in surprise. “How did you know we got in a fight?”

“What?” Scott looked at Stiles, feigning ignorance. “Um, you mentioned it?”

“Dude, you can’t lie using a question,” Stiles stated.

“Alright, fine. Derek called me last night,” Scott confessed. “I know I promised to stay out of things, but being the Alpha and with you guys in the pack, it’s kind of my business, you know?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, hoping Stiles wasn’t going to be pissed at him.

“Oh God, what did he say?” Stiles suddenly looked at Scott seriously. “What did he say?” He knew he sounded more worried than annoyed now. “He’s pissed, isn’t he? Oh God, he broke up with me, didn’t he? He called to tell you to keep me away from him. He couldn’t even look at me—”

“Stiles!” Scott nearly yelled his name, catching about half of the party’s attention. He looked at everyone, giving them a smile that said ‘everything is okay, not a total disaster happening right now.’ “Calm down, he didn’t say any of that.”

“I think I am going to vomit,” Stiles suddenly announced.

“Just breathe, it’s okay,” Scott stated, resting his hand on Stiles’ shoulder in a comforting manner.

“What _did_ he say, Scott?” Stiles finally forced himself to ask again.

“He … he asked me how I would fix things with Kira if we got in a fight,” Scott admitted. “He didn’t know what to do, because he’s never actually been in a serious relationship. As serious as you two. Well … not since Kate,” he spoke her name cautiously, convinced that she might be like Candyman and appear if mentioned one time too many. “But you are so much better than her. You know, not tricking him and murdering everyone he loves.”

“Shit,” Stiles frowned. “I am actual human trash,” he stated, letting his head slam against the wall.

“You got in a fight about Kate?” Scott’s eyes widened as he questioned Stiles in disbelief.

“I’m not proud of it!” Stiles retorted.

“Dude, even I know not to mention her, and I’m not dating Derek,” Scott announced, making Stiles wish he wasn’t right.

“I know! I just … ” Stiles released an aggravated groan. “I was mad because he’s been super distant lately. Every since Christmas, things have been _amazing_. Like, _A-MAZ-ING_.”

“I get it, I don’t want details about your sex life, man,” Scott stated.

“It’s not just that, Scott,” Stiles admitted. He looked around at everyone before continuing. “Sometimes, we’ll just lay in bed and cuddle. Talk for hours about things. But then as New Year’s started to approach, he suddenly didn’t want to talk anymore. We suddenly turned back to just having just sex. And I’m not complaining because it is earth-shatteringly, mindblowingly, out of this world. Even if my ass is still a little sore.” He smiled when he noticed Scott give him a small ‘seriously?’ look.

“I told you, I don’t tell you about my sex life, you don’t tell me about yours,” Scott replied.

“Couldn’t resist,” Stiles’ faint smile faded when he realized he was still in a fight with Derek. “He just retracted back into himself.”

“You ever think it might be because he is freaking out over how hard he’s fallen for you?” Scott questioned.

“What?” Stiles looked up at Scott.

“He said he didn’t want to fuck this up,” Scott confessed. He took a swig of his beer before stating, “Plus, everyone sees how he looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Stiles smiled fondly to himself. “We were joking around one time, but he called me ‘my sun and stars,’ and I replied with ‘moon of my life.’ We kind of keep calling each other it.”

“You are both sickeningly adorable,” Scott announced.

“ _Were_ ,” Stiles solemnly corrected Scott, fearing that he messed up beyond repair.

“Stiles,” Scott sighed, setting his beer down before grabbing Stiles’ hand, holding it up to their eye level. “He gave you this for Christmas,” he gestured to the loft key and keychain dangling from Stiles’ fingers. “You’ve been fidgeting with it ever since you got here. You both clearly care about each other.” He sighed again when Stiles looked away from him.

“I need him, Scott,” Stiles confessed. “Last night, I had my first night terror in a long time,” he twisted the beer bottle, using his fingertips to spin it around in its spot on the table, avoiding eye contact with Scott as he spoke. “I never told you, because I didn’t want you worrying about me, but after … after the Nogitsune, I kept having these crippling night terrors that being free from it was just a dream. And Derek … well, Derek let me stay at the loft to take naps whenever I didn’t get enough sleep the nights before. Gave me some comfort knowing that someone who could fight and protect me was there, you know? But when it was getting worse, he started staying with me. It started with him just sitting on the end of the couch, my feet—eventually my head—on his lap as he read or something. When they wouldn’t go away, Derek started … taking the naps with me. There was something about being in his arms that made it all go away. Made me feel safe,” he confessed.

“Wait,” Scott held up his hand to halt Stiles’ story. “Hold up. You’re telling me that you are afraid Derek is going to stop loving you when he would cuddle with you _prior_ to dating you?”

“He said he didn’t mind doing it because he needed it too,” Stiles shrugged. “Remember when you said you couldn’t explain why you wanted physical contact so much after being bit?” He watched Scott nod, intently listening to Stiles. “Apparently born werewolves more than just crave physical comfort, unlike turned werewolves. It’s something they need to keep functioning. He told me he hadn’t had it since Braeden, and it was starting to eat away at him.” He shook his head before continuing, “I lept at the opportunity to be in his arms, and I couldn’t even admit to myself that I wanted … _needed_ him as much as he needed that contact.”

“Stiles,” Scott started. “I don’t know a lot about Derek, because he is an enigma I don’t think I’ll ever understand,” he turned his body to get in front of Stiles’ line of view. “But I know that he lets you get close. He lets _you_ in. Derek doesn’t do anything for just anybody, and he sure as hell doesn’t let just anybody cuddle with him.” He could tell the wheels in Stiles’ head were turning to find fault with his statement. “Yes, he probably did cuddle with all his exs. But I’m telling you right now, he was most likely emotionally dead during all of it. But with you? God, Stiles, he is somebody else when you are around. You bring him to a whole new level and changed his entire perspective on life. In his own, silent and broody way, he loves you. And in your own, loud and sarcastic way, you love him.”

Stiles looked at Scott, smiling before hugging him. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Does this mean I won’t have to go alpha and force you two to make up?” Scott jokingly asked as he hugged Stiles back.

“I’m going to bail,” Stiles gestured towards the party crowding around the couch. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“If you leave now, you’ll be able to make it before midnight,” Scott replied with a small encouraging smile.

Stiles slapped Scott’s arm in a thankful manner, quickly exiting his house to make it to his jeep. He anxiously drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his eyes darting between the road and the radio clock, keeping an eye on the time. _I’ll make it. I’m totally going to make it._

Part of Stiles wanted to argue with himself that making it before midnight didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like he was Cinderella and going to have his wish turn back into a tattered dress, mice, and a pumpkin. Derek would still be there after midnight, and that was what mattered. Sure, it was a romantic as hell gesture that was probably going to make Derek roll his eyes at him, but he enjoyed picturing it play out in his mind. _Derek got to be the romantic for Christmas, I call New Year’s_.

When Stiles finally reached the loft, he felt butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, making him pause in front of the giant door. He was praying that Derek wasn’t going to be pissed, but rather mopey and lonely, pulling Stiles into one of his wolf hugs, draping his body over him as he nuzzled his neck, speaking sweet nothings to him about how much he missed him and was never going to let him go.

Stiles tried to push the thought away, not wanting to get his hopes up, as he pulled open the big door. Except the door wouldn’t open. It was locked tight, signaling that Derek wasn’t home. _Maybe he locked it to keep the others from barging in? He never locks it_ , Stiles’ mind fought for an explanation as he used his key. The door gave way, easily sliding open for him to move into the loft.

“Derek?” Stiles called out to him, waiting for a response. _He’s not here_ , he thought, a frown covering his features. He moved into the loft, slowly approaching the couch. He noticed Derek’s pillow strewed across one of the cushions. _He must have slept on the couch?_ He plopped his body onto the couch, wrapping his arms around the pillow as he shoved his face into it. He nuzzled its fluffiness as he deeply inhaled, overjoyed by the familiarity of Derek’s scent.

No time seemed to pass when he suddenly heard the loft door slide open. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, sighing when he noticed the time. _12:17, we missed it_. He sat up, setting his phone on the coffee table before leaning back onto the couch, hugging the pillow to his body. He didn’t look at Derek, uncertain what to say now that there was no cliche midnight kiss about to happen. _I seriously should have thought this out_.

“You came back,” Derek stated, keeping his distance from Stiles as he stood at the top of the stairs near the door.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied. “I didn’t know you had errands to run this late.” He tried hard to keep his tone from sounding accusatory, but part of him was jealous that something was so important, he had to leave the loft so late.

“I was following your scent,” Derek confessed.

“What?” Stiles finally looked up at Derek. He noticed how exhausted and hurt Derek looked, and he felt worse about running away last night.

“Your dad says hi,” Derek replied, taking his leather jacket off, hanging it over the railing before he descended the stairs.

“You went to his house?”

“It took me nearly a whole day and a long run to figure out that I should never had let you leave to begin with,” Derek explained as he approached the couch. “I followed your scent home, and your dad didn’t seem very surprised to see me.”

“Yeah, he kind of knows what happened,” Stiles explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we talked about it.”

“Sorry,” Stiles apologized as he scooted into the corner of the couch, the farthest spot away from Derek without getting up to move.

“I should be apologizing, Stiles,” Derek started, crossing his arms over his chest. “You were right to call me on my bull shit. I told you I would never lie to you.”

“You didn’t lie. Just didn’t feel like sharing,” Stiles weakly replied.

“Still, I should have told you what was wrong,” Derek replied, observing how tightly Stiles clutched his pillow to his chest.

“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch,” Stiles finally stated.

“I wanted to,” Derek replied. “Reminded me of before. I could pretend you were still here from the memories.”

Stiles looked up at Derek, surprised that Derek was referring to their past cuddle sessions, both prior to and during dating. “I miss those,” he added, wanting to make Derek feel easy about confessing that.

“I only miss them because it was before you left for college,” Derek explained. “Sometimes, I don’t know what to do when you aren’t here. I lay there trying to remember what it feels like.”

“I’m all for cuddling more,” Stiles offered a light laugh afterwards.

“You’re all for trying again?” Derek asked, looking down at the ground as he shifted his body.

“I never wanted to stop,” Stiles confessed. “Derek,” he heavily sighed. “I don’t want to upset you, but I get insecure. About your past.” He waited, watching to make sure Derek didn’t tense at his words before continuing. “That maybe you think I’m like _them_. That maybe you’ll think I’m even too immature for you.” He looked away from Derek, playing with the fabric of the pillowcase, looking at it as if it was the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “You gave them everything, Derek. To me, that is scary as hell. And I know that I’m not experienced. That I don’t have a list of long term relationships. But they ripped you apart. I get that. But now you … No matter what I do, I’m not … ” He fought against his tears, staring down at the pillow, watching as a tear fell to stain the fabric.

“Stiles,” Derek called his name gently.

“I just want to be good enough for you,” Stiles finally admitted. “I _want_ to be your everything, just like you’ve always been mine.”

“But that’s it, Stiles,” Derek’s voice was stern enough to force Stiles to look up at him. “You are good enough. You’re better than enough,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before continuing. “You were right when you said I don’t have the best track record. I’ve spent my life trying to find someone who … loves me. And every time I thought I found that someone … It was always a lie. The truth is, you’re too good for me. And that scares me.” He looked away from Stiles before confessing, “It scares me that someone sees value in me.”

Stiles stood, abandoning the pillow on the couch as he took the few steps forward to embrace Derek. He turned his head to rest it against the top of his shoulder as he splayed his fingers across Derek’s back, pressing their bodies together as much as he could. “I’m sorry. God, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. I was hurt. I just wanted to know you aren’t going to leave me,” he started rambling once Derek wrapped his arms around him, gently nuzzling the hollow of his neck.

“It’s okay,” Derek finally stated. “I over reacted. It was my fault.”

“I was stupid,” Stiles replied, pulling back from Derek as he sniffled some to keep from crying. “I won’t run away next time.”

“Even if there is a next time, I’m not going to let you run away again” Derek replied.

Stiles smiled, laughing a little while wiping the few stray tears from his cheeks. He leaned forward to kiss Derek when he suddenly backed his head away. “Wow.”

“What?” Derek asked, curious about what could possibly stop Stiles when they were so close to kissing.

“I just realized that I haven't kissed you since last year.” Stiles smiled when Derek rolled his eyes at him, a smile gracing his own lips before he closed the gap between them.

“I tried to be hopelessly romantic,” Stiles stated between kisses. “And arrive before midnight to kiss you right as the ball dropped.”

“Sorry,” Derek replied, moving his lips across his jaw, settling down on the hollow of his neck. “I tried following your scent to get to you before midnight.”

“Wow, we are both stupidly romantic,” Stiles commented with a small laugh. “And I love it,” he almost purred when Derek nipped his collarbone.

“Even my ‘stupid werewolf face’?” Stiles could feel the smile crossing Derek’s lips.

“Especially your stupid werewolf face. Because it’s my stupid werewolf face,” Stiles stated, owning up to the fact that even if the comment was beyond lame, he thought it was amusing. He ran his hand up Derek’s body, moving up over his shoulders before coming to rest on his biceps. He smiled into their kiss when Derek gently cupped his ass, pushing their bodies together.

“As much as I want to show you exactly how much I missed you,” Derek began as he broke off their kiss. “Would you be opposed to—”

“Cuddling?” Stiles smiled, knowing exactly what Derek was thinking, because the same thought crossed his mind. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, gently kissing the tip of Derek’s nose. “I am always up for that.”

Derek easily picked up Stiles in his arms, walking backwards to the bed. He smiled when Stiles released a small laugh.

“I love it when you lovingly manhandle me,” Stiles commented. He released a slight chuckle when Derek dropped him onto the bed. He kicked his shoes off before backing his body up against the pillows. He smiled when Derek easily crawled across the bed, draping his body over Stiles’, settling his hips in between Stiles’ legs. He gently leaned in to kiss Stiles, pushing his hands under Stiles’ shoulder blades as he rested his arms on either sides of his torso.

Stiles pushed his hands into Derek’s hair, his fingers gently twirling a few strands. He moved his head to the side to expose his throat to Derek when he broke away from their kiss. He sighed in content as Derek gently nuzzled the hollow of his neck, a shiver sent across his body as the coarseness of Derek’s beard rubbed against him.

They remained in each other’s embrace for a while as Derek continued his scenting, causing a moan to release from Stiles’ throat. Every now and again, make out sessions would break out, both of them playfully fighting for dominance when Derek would ultimately let Stiles have it. Stiles would sigh before moaning every time Derek bit down on his lower lip, drawing all sorts of wanton noises from him. Derek ran his hands under Stiles’ shirt, caressing the waistband of Stiles’ briefs that were peeking out from underneath his pants.

“Derek,” Stiles moaned his name when he slowly lifted his shirt high enough to expose his navel. “Don’t stop.”

Derek moved back, dipping his tongue across Stiles’ navel before moving to place a gentle kiss on his hip bone. “You’re okay with more?” He asked, running his lips across the waistband as he waited for Stiles’ answer.

Stiles tightened his grip in Derek’s hair. “Fuck yeah,” his voice hitched as he spoke, loving the feeling of Derek sitting up to grind their hips together. He reached his hands out, pulling Derek’s shirt away from his body as he tried to pull Derek closer to him.

“I want you, so bad,” Derek uttered, eyes flickering blue as his wolf fought against the cage. He kept his eyes transfixed on the multiple constellations Stiles’ beauty marks formed across his pale skin as he pushed Stiles shirt up higher.

Stiles wrapped his fingers around the material of Derek’s shirt, pulling himself upright to nearly slam his lips against Derek’s. There was nothing graceful or gentle about it, only the urgency and need Stiles felt to curl up around Derek and never let him go.

“Then take me,” Stiles uttered into Derek’s parted mouth, knowing full well that Derek could feel his pulse beating heavily in his chest with how tightly they clung to each other. The butterflies he still felt in his stomach every time Derek looked at him that way, like he was an ocean and Derek was ready to drown himself in him, made him realize that there was no escaping, for either of them. He wanted to cry at realizing his need for Derek Hale to be his everything and vice versa. He was Derek’s and Derek was his, and nothing—no matter what supernatural enemy threatened them or how many stupid fights they had—was going to change that.

Every sound coming from Stiles was swallowed up by Derek as he kissed him in a feverish manner. He moved his hips to shamelessly grind against Stiles, moving his hands to cup his ass, pulling his body into him. He smiled against Stiles’ kisses when Stiles pushed him down onto the bed, clumsily continuing to thrust his hips forward against Derek.

Stiles faltered in his movements, gasping when Derek easily moved his legs apart to let him settle between them. He looked down at Derek, watching his features carefully before pushing his body into his, kissing him as he gently ground their cocks together.

Derek partially grunted when Stiles ran his hand between their bodies to rest on Derek’s clothed erection, his thumb gently stroking its side. He could feel Stiles beaming from the response, and he was ecstatic that he was appreciating every noise and action he coaxed out of him. He released a small moan from low in his throat when Stiles used his entire hand to palm him through his jeans.

“I thought you were going to _take_ me. Too busy to _rise_ to the occasion?” Stiles teased through the sly smile crossing his face.

“Maybe I want you to do the taking,” Derek slightly groaned into Stiles’ partially open mouth hovering over his own.

Something in Stiles broke when he heard that statement. His hand stopped moving, leaning back from Derek as he tried to process the statement. “You … You want me to?”

“If you don’t want to—”

“No,” Stiles almost jumped to cover Derek’s mouth from finishing that sentence. “No, I want to. I’ve wanted to for a while,” he shyly admitted. “I just never thought you would want to.”

Derek easily curled his hand around Stiles’ neck, pulling him down into a kiss. But this kiss wasn’t like the previous ones, all clumsy and full of haste. This kiss was slow and sure, but filled to the brink with need and love. He pulled back from Stiles, resting their foreheads together before he spoke. Derek knew for a long time that Stiles took his role as bottom for granted. It wasn’t that Derek didn’t love being inside Stiles, but the thought of giving himself over, of doing something he’s never done before like Stiles did for him the first time. He wanted to experience Stiles like this. He wanted to expose his vulnerable side, to allow someone else control and be accepted, like only Stiles could. “I want to. With you.”

“Okay,” Stiles replied, smiling as his lips ghosted over Derek’s before committing to another full kiss. His hands fumbled with Derek’s belt as Derek reached over to the side and retrieved the lube from the nightstand.

It didn’t take long for them both to discard their clothes, nearly clinging onto each other the moment they were naked. An unspoken agreement settled between them when Stiles popped the cap off of the lube, squirting a generous amount in his hand. Derek ran his hand over Stiles’ cock, quickly working him and only stumbling when Stiles pressed his fingertip against his rim.

“Stiles,” Derek moaned his name as he pressed his face into the hollow of Stiles’ neck. A moan cracked from deep in his throat when Stiles’ finger slipped inside, slowly stretching him.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles gently bit down on Derek’s collarbone. “You feel so good. I don’t think I’m going to last,” he warned him.

“That won’t do,” Derek replied, moving to kiss him deeply as he released his hold on Stiles’ cock. His breath hitched in his throat when Stiles inserted another finger.

When he was certain that he was prepared, Derek disentangled them by pushing Stiles backwards. Stiles let out a small ‘unf’ noise when he fell against the bed. He moved backwards, propping his torso up on one of the pillows, anxiety running through him when Derek straddled his thighs.

“You ready?” Derek asked, watching Stiles’ facial expressions.

Stiles nodded quickly, his voice lodged in his throat as he took in the sight of Derek straddling his legs. He saw Derek naked before, but he never imagined that he was going to be topping him. Never saw him in such a state.

Derek moved forward, kissing Stiles as he hovered over his groin. They both moaned when Derek guided the head of Stiles’ cock as he slowly sank down. He moaned against Stiles’ tongue when he bottomed out. He paused, calming his breathing as he waited for them both to collect themselves.

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, resting his hands on Derek’s knees, running up his thighs before settling on his hips. All Derek did was hum in agreement as he bit his bottom lip, focusing on growing accustomed to Stiles inside him.

Stiles dropped his head into the pillow, unable to think clearly with Derek like this. _In him. I’m_ inside _Derek_. He looked up at Derek, holding his breath when he saw how heavy his eyelids were from the pleasure; how blown his pupils were. He was a sight better than anything he could imagine.

Derek lifted himself a few inches before dropping his body back down, his hand pressed into Stiles’ abdomen as he tried to keep an even pace.

Stiles couldn’t help but gasp and pant as Derek set up a rhythm, lifting and dropping himself onto him. He tried to lift his hips up to meet Derek every time he rolled his down, drawing a moan out of him. “Derek, holy shit,” he panted, knowing he had a pathetic expression of complete want on his face. _Having Derek Hale fuck himself on your dick would make anyone come undone_ , he reasoned with himself. He moved his hand to wrap around Derek’s cock, jerking him in time with his movements.

Derek faintly smiled at how undone Stiles was becoming, slightly speeding up his movements. He continued to change the angle until he found the spot. He faltered in his movements when it happened, biting down on his lip to keep himself from coming before lifting up and pushing back down to have Stiles’ cock perfectly hit his prostate again. He moaned loudly, leaning forward some as he placed his open hand over Stiles’ heart, before continuing his movements.

“Please,” Stiles begged. “Fuck, please don’t stop,” he moaned as he continued to grab at different things: Derek’s hip, his ass, his arm, the bedsheets, anything that could ground him from the growing orgasm building up in the bottom of his stomach.

Derek partially smiled as he watched Stiles lull his head back and forth in pleasure. He released a moan as he started to quicken his pace more, ruthlessly bouncing up and down as the head of Stiles’ cock continually hit his prostate. He felt his teeth change, the sharp tip of his canines breaking the plump skin as he bit down on his bottom lip.

“Derek,” Stiles sobbed his name as his orgasm hit him. His entire body convulsed, his muscles tightening as he dug his nails into Derek’s hips. His hand on Derek’s cock faltered, unable to continue jerking him off as he entered the aftermath of his climax.

Derek’s own orgasm ends up hitting him almost immediately, the feel of Stiles coming inside of him is enough to shove him over the edge. “Stiles,” he moaned, leaning forward to nuzzle the hollow of his neck.

Time seemed to stand still as they remained in each other’s embrace, unable to part from one another as they took comfort in the skin-to-skin contact. It was Stiles’ silent, somewhat reluctant, statement that he could barely breathe with Derek’s entire weight resting on him.

Derek laughed, slowly kissing Stiles before he rolled off of him. It didn’t take long to clean, which Stiles was grateful for because it meant Derek would be in his arms sooner.

“That was … that was hotter than hell,” Stiles commented when Derek finally stretched out on the bed beside him. “You are gorgeous even when bottoming, you know that, right?” He caught a glimpse of Derek’s small smile. “Sometimes I think you should be a porn star. I guess if we ever run out of money, that’s an option.”

“You want me to be having sex with other guys?” Derek questioned as he turned his head to look at him.

“Uh, no,” Stiles stated matter-of-factly. “I would be the one you would be sexing. We would just record it. Do you have any idea how hot that was? How hot we are when having sex?”

“I’m glad you think we could be successful porn stars, Stiles,” Derek commented.

Stile turned onto his side, gently kissing Derek’s chest as he draped one of his legs across his stomach. “I don’t know if I would like people getting off to a naked you, though,” he explained.

“The only person getting off to me naked, is you,” Derek stated. He felt Stiles smile against his chest, knowing he was happy to hear his guarantee of fidelity.

“So, that was new,” Stiles stated, changing the subject.

“A good ‘new’?” Derek questioned.

“No,” Stiles quickly stated. He turned his head to look up at Derek, smiling at the arched eyebrows and slight concern plastered on his face. “It was a great new,” he gently kissed Derek, laughing when Derek turned them to pin him beneath him.

“You’re such a little shit, sometimes,” Derek commented between kisses.

“And you love me,” Stiles stated in a triumphant tone.

Derek leaned back, scanning Stiles’ features as he drank in the sight of him; the fact that he was able to have Stiles to himself, and to give himself to Stiles in return. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “I do.”

“Good,” Stiles replied. “Because I love you too. You and your stupid werewolf face,” he smiled when Derek playfully growled at him. They both laughed together before Stiles let out a small sigh of happiness. “Happy New Year, Derek.”

“Happy New Year, Stiles. I'm sorry you didn't get your New Year's kiss,” Derek admitted, feeling guilty about it. "I know you were looking forward to it."

Stiles looked a little shocked before he started to speak. "Derek, I would rather have life altering sex—like we just had—instead of a kiss at midnight. That, and I'm sure everyone was going to punch me if I mentioned you one more time at the party."

Derek chuckled, pressing his face down into Stiles' throat, deeply inhaling his scent before sighing contently. "I'm just happy to still have you with me," he confessed.

"I told you," Stiles began. "You'll always have me, Derek. Always."

"I'll make next New Year's even better," Derek promised, placing a gentle kiss on his collarbone.

"Is it too early to say that I'm excited for the end of this year?" Stiles joked, smiling when Derek leaned in to close their lips together in a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on tumblr:
> 
> [drunklightning](http://drunklightning.tumblr.com) is my blog where I reblog anything I find of interest.
> 
> [dexterous-sinistrous](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com) is suited towards my ramblings about my writing, and NSFW. (It's where I serenade myself about Sterek). It's my trashcan of emotions. Feel free to stop by and say hi, criticize me, make incoherent noises with me, whatevs.
> 
> [Send](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/ask) me any prompts you think you'd like to have me write!


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